The Hounds
by MissScarletInTheLibrary
Summary: A series of one-shot ficlets based on Seth, Dean and Roman, as individuals and a group. If you have a request, I'll do my best to write it, if they get my muses going. Rated M for potential future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The first in a series of ficlets based on Seth, Dean and Roman, as individuals and a group.**

**Allonsyambrose on Tumblr requested a ficlet where all three swap bodies, and this is the result.**

**Please enjoy, and don't forget to leave a review! **

**Also, if you have any requests, I'll do my best to write them if they get my muses going. **

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"Oh man, I'm so _hot_. Like, look at these guns." Roman flexed, admiring his body in the full-length mirror. "And check out this fucking hair."

Seth rolled his eyes, trying to hide a grin. This was a weird situation, yes, but trust that lunatic to see the silver lining. "Glad you like it, man. But don't forget to condition thoroughly when you shower, okay? That's key."

Dean huffed loudly from his perch in the corner, frowning as he frantically searched Google. "This isn't funny, guys! How the hell did this even happen? There's got to be a way to reverse it. I won't rest until we find it."

"Relaaaaax," Roman said casually, taking his shirt off and running his hands over his chest, still checking himself out. "I kind of like it. Roman's got this big, thick body. And I've got a dirty mind..."

Seth's smile faded instantly, colour draining from his face. "Hold up - do _not_ jack off. Keep your hands off my dick, dude. I'm serious. This shit is freaky enough as it is. We don't need to be crossing all sorts of lines that we can't go back on."

Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. "There's nothing. Just some stuff about a lame Disney movie. This has to have happened before. People talk about alien abductions all the damn time - why hasn't anyone set up a help group for victims of body swapping?"

Roman snorted, finally turning to face them and flicking his nipples casually, much to Seth's chagrin. "Like I said, relaaaax. We'll figure it out. It happened out of the blue, I'm sure we'll switch back just as randomly. So, while we're stuck in this Freaky Friday shit, we should make the most of it."

"Why do you have to touch my nipples?" Seth whined, pleading with his eyes for Roman to stop such public acts of self (or, his self?) love.

Roman reluctantly let his hands drop down to his hips. "There. Happy, Mr. Killjoy? You sure you aren't taking on some of Seth's qualities already?"

"Fuck you," Dean snapped from the corner, throwing his phone into his suitcase. "Fine. If we can't do anything about it, then how do you suggest we make the most of it?"

Roman tapped his collarbone idly for a few seconds, before a sly smile spread across his full lips. "I got an idea."

"If you fondle any other parts of me, I swear to God-"

"Nah, nothing like that. Just watch." Roman walked over to the door and swung it open, strolling out into the hallway.

Seth and Dean followed him curiously, accustomed to Dean's eccentricity, albeit not while being channeled through the body of a large Samoan.

Roman glanced up and down the corridor, looking for his target.

"Put on a damn shirt!" Seth hissed, looking around nervously. "You know we're supposed to cover up when we're not onscreen. This is still our workplace, you know."

Roman dismissed him with a wave of his hand, his eyes lighting up as he watched a figure approach. "Hey sweetheart, how you doing?"

Seth and Dean's heads snapped in the opposite direction, finding Lana strutting toward them. "I'm good, Mr. Reigns. And you?"

"All the better for seeing you today," Roman winked, flexing his pecs a little. "Hey, there's something I wanted to ask you."

The action didn't escape Lana's notice, her eyes catching the subtle movement, approval warming her gaze. "Yes…?"

"Are you free for dinner tonight? I know a great place in the city that does Eastern European food. Give you a real taste of home."

Seth could feel himself breaking out in a sweat. What was this troglodyte doing?! He didn't know if he could come back from this reputational damage…or the damage to his ego if she turned him…or, Dean, really…down.

He was about to break up the little charade when Lana smiled and nodded, "Meet me in the hotel lobby at 10pm."

With that, she strode away, all three men eyeing up her long legs appreciatively.

Seth gulped, remembering that he was supposed to be angry a few seconds later. He turned to Roman and slapped him on the chest, then threw in a smack to the side of the head for good measure.

"What did you do that for?!"

"Oh come on, I've seen you two eye fucking each other for _months_. You know you want those legs wrapped around you, hearing her moan at you in Russian, riding your dick. You two are gonna make real pretty babies."

Seth blushed, trying really hard to hold on to his anger…and failing miserably. "Thanks, man. I could never work up the nerve to ask her…but what if we haven't switched back by 10?"

Roman smiled widely, pinching his nipples with a flourish. "Then I guess I'll just have to take one for the team. Don't worry, Uce. I'll bring my best stroke game."

Seth groaned, burying his face in his hands. "What the _hell_ have we gotten ourselves into?" He paused in his misery, sniffing his palms. "What the _hell_ did you put on your hands? Is that…strawberries?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably, before his stance turned defensive. "Yeah, and what? I like to keep my hands smooth after all of that snatching and chalk at Crossfit. I'm not an animal…"

Seth and Roman burst out laughing, bending over and grabbing their bellies, even when Dean started to smack at them angrily.

"Screw you both!" Dean yelled, storming back into the locker room.

Once recovered, Seth and Roman followed him, still chuckling to themselves.

Roman's laughter ceased immediately when he caught sight of Dean. "What are you doing? Take that out of your mouth right now!"

Dean smirked, shaking his head. "…_Nope_! Mmm, so yummy. So _healthy_. I just _love_ salads."

Roman lunged for him, but Seth quickly intervened, shoving the bigger body back. "No! Get it together. He's only doing this to provoke you, calm down. Besides, it _is_ good for you."

"Then _you_ should eat a cupcake. One full of sugar and fat and delicious chocolate. Here, let me get one."

Roman rummaged through his suitcase, exclaiming triumphantly when he produced a chocolate cupcake wrapped in plastic. He handed it Seth, "Tuck in. Make sure you eat every single crumb."

Dean looked on in horror as Seth sank his teeth into the treat, closing his eyes and groaning loudly for dramatic effect.

"No! Don't do it! Stay strong!" Dean urged, wringing his hands together. "We're better than this! Think of the abs!"

Seth paused mid-chew, adjusting his glasses, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "I have a better idea."

"Yes!" Dean fist-pumped, relieved that the lump of gooey fat wouldn't end up on his ass. "I always knew you were smarter than you looked."

"I look like _you_ right now, dumbass," Seth snarked, setting the cupcake down and grabbing the beat up golden briefcase that sat on the bench. "I'll be right back."

"Where you going?" Roman called after him.

"I'm going to cash in on Nikki!"

"_What_?! Get back here, you beautiful bastard!"

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**A/N: If I've made any mistakes, forgive me. I wrote this in less than an hour. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I got this prompt from Anon on Tumblr:**

**'dean getting excited about forks and roman humors him.'**

**No slash. Just Ambreigns fluff.**

**This is the first time I've written Ambreigns, please review :)**

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"Are we there yet?"

"Almost," Roman replied, glancing at Dean in the rearview mirror.

"How much longer until we're there?"

"Not much longer."

Roman was doing his best to reassure Dean, knowing how much this trip meant to him. They had moved into their first apartment together as a couple that weekend, introducing Dean to the new and unfamiliar world of domesticity. Roman thought his boyfriend's excitement was cute, and was trying to remain patient with him. They had grown up in two very different environments – his defined by a loving and supportive family, while Dean's had been devoid of any real parental figures – and were slowly learning how to mesh their own little family together in light of those differences.

"Yeah, but like, how many minutes?"

"Do you want me to turn this car around?"

"No, no, no!"

"Then sit back like a good little backseat passenger."

"Still don't know why you made me sit back here," came the muttered reply.

Roman didn't have to look at Dean to know that he was pouting.

"Because you couldn't control yourself and kept sticking your head out the window like a dog," Roman explained, smiling at the memory of Dean with the wind ruffling through his hair and his tongue hanging out as they sped along the highway. "I didn't want to be distracted by your adorable ass. You needed a time out."

"Did not…"

"You can quit pouting now, we're here."

"YAY!"

Turning in his seat, Roman raised his eyebrows and asked, "Are you going to behave yourself?"

Dean twisted his mouth in contemplation, his fingers fidgeting with his belt as he stared right back, something resembling mischievous defiance in his eyes.

"…Yeah. Mostly."

Unable to hide his grin, Roman leaned over and pulled Dean in for a soft kiss.

"I'm so happy we're taking this step together. There's no one else I'd rather make a home with."

Dean's cheeks instantly caught some colour. He ducked his head to try and hide that fact, mumbling, "Me too."

Although articulate, Dean had a tendency to lose his words when it came to expressing his emotions. But that was okay. Roman could read his body language and behaviour, and understood what every tilt of Dean's head and erratic movement of his beautiful body was intended to convey.

"Enough with the mushy shit, let's go!"

Dean took off running, almost colliding with an elderly man as he pushed his cart toward his car, in his eagerness to get inside the store. Roman quickly caught up with him, and apologised on behalf of his boyfriend. He then placed a palm at the nape of Dean's neck - partly to prevent him from getting lost in the IKEA maze, and partly because he knew that particular touch calmed him down.

"Alright baby, what do you want to check out first?"

"Mmmm, this way," Dean replied, grabbing a fistful of Roman's shirt and dragging him down an aisle to their right.

"Cutlery?"

Roman hadn't thought that it would be top of Dean's list, but he was happy to play along.

"Yep," Dean answered, smacking his lips together as he perused a case in front of him, picking up forks of various sizes and pricking them lightly into the pads of his fingertips, testing their sturdiness.

"What do you look for in a fork, hmmm?" Roman slipped behind Dean, wrapping his arms around him and nuzzling into his neck as he continued to watch him examining the utensils.

"It's gotta be strong, obviously. Able to endure a lot of shit. Being banged on the table, being stuck into the grizzliest meat, being chewed on. Every fork's got a different character. They're like people."

Roman stopped kissing his way up Dean's neck, surprised and a little bit confused by that response.

"Which one's a Dean fork?"

"This one," he replied instantly, holding up one with slightly crooked prongs. "It ain't the prettiest, but it's built to last."

"I don't agree with you on the pretty thing, but I follow. Which one's a Roman fork?"

"Mmm, this one. Sterling silver, top of the line. Beautiful to look at, and functional to boot."

Roman snorted out a laugh, never ceasing to be amused by his boyfriend's little eccentricities.

"I think we should get both."

"Woah, woah, woah, hold up. We gotta test one more thing."

"Yeah? What's that?"

Dean held up both forks and slotted them together at the prongs, sliding them up and down, in and out, humming in satisfaction.

"Just like I thought."

"What are you doing?"

Dean turned his head, a distinctive gleam in his eye. "I had to test out their chemistry. See if they worked well together."

"They have to have chemistry?"

"Yep. They're gonna be forking all the time. I needed to know that they'd make a good match."

Roman watched the hypnotic movement of the forks in Dean's hand, suddenly interested in a whole other kind of forking.

"Come on, let's grab what we need and get out of here."

"What's the rush? We just got here, big man."

Roman nipped at Dean's earlobe and whispered gruffly, "That may be so, but we've got a bed that needs to be christened and you've got an ass that needs to be forked."

Dean pondered the proposition for a second, "Yeah, we're done here. Let's go."

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**A/N: Reviews are appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: A little something something requested by an anon on Tumblr: Dean Ambrose/OC "Well don't you look lovely, all covered in blood."**

**Happy Halloween!**

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"Push! Puuuuuush! You're doing so good, you're almost there!"

I smiled at the woman encouragingly, willing her on through the last few seconds, knowing that the exhaustion written on her face would soon transform into blissful happiness. She squeezed her eyes shut, gritting her teeth, and gave that last push, the one that would change her life forever. Yes, watching others give birth apparently turns me into a giant cheeseball.

Working quickly, I caught her baby and wiped away all of the beautiful goo covering his tiny little body. He was then placed on his Mommy's chest to be loved and snuggled.

"Thank you so much, Emily," she smiled. Her words were directed at me, but she only had eyes for her little man.

"You're very welcome. Now enjoy your time with him, just press the call button if you need me."

As the after-care team got to work, I slipped out and headed toward the scrub room. I loved my job, it was truly my passion. I got to welcome new people into the world practically every day of the week, and how badass was that? Glancing down at myself, I grimaced. Okay, being covered in the products of birth wasn't a great look, but I had just helped Grace meet her baby, on _Halloween_, my favourite holiday. It was a solid night's work.

"Well don't you look lovely, all covered in blood."

That voice.

What was he doing here…?

"Dean?"

"The one and only."

"I thought you were going to the zombie bar crawl."

"I did. The bar's right next door, I thought I'd swing by and see how things are going. I take it all of _that_," he gestured at my blood spattered scrubs, "means it's been a good night?"

I smiled in spite of myself, "Yep. We just delivered a healthy baby monster."

"Niiiiiice," he grinned, offering me an air high five.

"And I take it all of _that_," I pointed at the ghoulish paint covering his face, "means that you're enjoying yourself?"

"Yep! Beer, costumes and peanuts. What more could a guy want on Halloween? Well, I can think of one more thing that would make this night the _best_."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"A kiss…" he murmured, stepping a little closer. I mirrored him, getting up on the balls of my feet, more than happy to grant that wish.

"…after you scrub up," he finished, pinching my cheek and dodging out of my reach.

"I never knew you were _scared_ of blood," I muttered, shooting him a death glare as I flounced over to the scrub room.

_He_ was the best. I was in way too deep with this guy. I loved everything about him – his eyes, his big arms, even his fucking _dimples_. He made me melt in the most awesome way. He came to visit me while working a night shift, knowing how much I loved this holiday. The boy knew how to earn major brownie points.

Returning to the hallway, I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall. "Do I meet your approval now?" I asked sarcastically, finding it really difficult to maintain my faux-annoyance when faced with his chipmunk cheeks.

He sauntered over to me and sniffed at my hair because that's just such a Dean thing to do. "You'll do," he announced, nuzzling me gently.

"Gee, thanks," I snorted, rolling my eyes and maintaining my defensive stance.

"I got you flowers," he whispered, tilting my chin up so that I had to meet his eyes.

He whipped said flowers out from behind his back, presenting them with a flourish.

"Oh my gosh, they're beauti-…they're from Grace's room! Did you just steal from a new Mom?"

"What? You help her push the little tater tot out, but she gets all the flowers? Bullshit."

How could I argue with that logic, coupled with the dimples that will probably lead to my downfall?

"I love you," I sighed, my stomach dropping when I realised what I had just said.

An interminable silence followed my declaration, during which I considered throwing myself down the laundry chute, purely as a means of escaping the awkwardness.

"Em." He spoke my name so softly, so gently that I had to look up at him. "I love you too," he breathed against my lips before taking them in a firm, passionate kiss.

I laughed and wrapped my arms around his neck, elated that he felt the same way. "Thank God for that!"

He circled an arm around my waist, holding me snugly against him. "Happy HalloDean, babe…now let's go find a janitor's closet and you can ride my _monstrously_ big penis to celebrate."

Well, I _was_ legally required to take my breaks...


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